I think I’ve alluded to the fact that one of my bad habits is writing attention-seeking, drama queening comments on Hevria.com.  I don’t know why, probably a combination of the fact that they turned me down when I wanted to be one of their regular writers and the fact that I like the people there a lot and would love to be their friend (I sort of am internet friends with some of them), and I don’t have a clue how to communicate with people I like (see: borderline Asperger’s again), particularly when we have differences as well as similarities and particularly when I admire them to the point of envy (please God don’t let them read this.  Or maybe they should, what do I know?).  Anyway, this is what I want to write right now.  I haven’t written it there, so maybe I’m getting better, but I’ve written it here, so maybe not:

I’m sorry that I wrote these comments.  I really want to hurt myself right now.  REALLY hurt myself.  With blood and pain and screaming.  Because I deserve it.  Because I want to feel that I’m alive.  Because I hate myself.  Because I want to stop the self-hating voices in my head and only physical pain stops emotional pain.  I love all of you and I’m very sorry.  Really I am.  I’m sorry I’ve ruined your lovely site.

I write this as a sort of time capsule or snapshot of my mind.  Maybe one day I will look back on things like this and they won’t seem a part of me any more.  Maybe one day I will have real-life friends and relationships instead of one-sided online “friendships”.

Also, I can see that the italicized words in this post are more emotional than the other paragraphs.  Stylistically, they are different.  The other paragraphs are more objective than the italicized ones.  Sometimes I can step outside myself and look back at what is going on in my head and diagnose it and see the childhood and adolescent experiences it is rooted in and understand what I have to do to move on.  But it doesn’t stop the pain.  It never stops the pain.

5 thoughts on “Despatches from the Front Line 2

  1. “(please God don’t let them read this. Or maybe they should, what do I know?). ”

    Oh, my goodness…..you are so raw, and sweet, and honest, and it helps me so much to read what you write. You write the way I wish I could…..

    I have that pain, and the memories of the things that make me want to (sometimes need to)hurt myself, physically, to try to take the edge off the emotional pain. Thank you for talking about that.

    And you are a friend, an online friend, just as real to me as anything. More so, in some ways: for me the fact that I can go at my own speed, take my time, when I “talk”, lessens the extreme anxiety and panic I get in “meatspace”, with ‘real’ people.

    You understand me better than some people who have known me a long time in meatspace …..and for that I am very thankful.

    I so enjoy reading what you write: not just the things you talk about, but how you do it. I hear it in my head as I read it, as though it was two friends sitting talking over a coffee, that comfortable feeling where it feels safe, and you know you are understood.

    And a lot of what you say puts into words the feelings I have but can’t express in words…..I lose my “wordability” right when I need it most, often; partly anxiety, partly stroke aftereffects, partly other reasons I can’t put my finger on, but oh, it’s good to read. I’m not glad you feel that way, of course, but I *am* glad you are writing it here, and that we are friends.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Thank you for this. I’m glad you like what I write. Sometimes I feel it’s just words. Like I said about envying people, people who can really write and I’m just putting words together.

    Anyway, I feel a bit better today. I realized at 1am last night, when I was too agitated to get to bed, that I hadn’t taken my anti-depressants, both the morning and the evening doses, so it was no wonder I had got myself in a state. I felt better as soon as I took the evening dose, which must be the placebo effect as they couldn’t do anything that quickly, but I don’t care. I got to bed at 1.45 (indulged in some Doctor Who to try to calm down first) and couldn’t sleep, so (this is embarrassing but I’m going to say it anyway) I lay there imagining my wife was talking to me from the future, telling me that I need to hold on and not hurt myself so that I can meet her and we can have children and be happy. Even at the time I thought I was being stupid, doubly so when I got up this morning. Then when I was getting dressed this morning I got a text from the woman I was set up on a shidduch date with, saying she was really sorry she hadn’t returned my calls, but her phone got stolen last week and she only just got the message. We’ve set up a date for Sunday week, which will be the first date I’ve gone on in four years, so I’m very nervous about it, but she seemed pleasant on the phone inasmuch as you can judge someone’s character in a three minute phone call.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You know – and apologies for not replying sooner – I don’t think that’s in the slightest bit stupid at all, for several reasons. It’s a positive thought, it’s helping you keep yourself going(I’m a great fan of “Whatver gets you through the night”….if something helps you, then by definition it isn’t stupid. At all. Not that I’m the best example but I do believe that…..)

      Actually, you’ve given me an idea, based on that, for helping myself, so even better…..


  3. I’m glad it helped you.

    I guess it feels to me too much like positive thinking, which I’m not really into. I mean, I feel if I never get married then this is very silly and just getting my hopes up to be dashed again. Even if I do get married it’s probably very silly…

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I like how I can read something, and then read it again, and a different part does the ‘gentle prod in the mind’ thing; I suppose it’s to do with what my minds on at any given time. Anyway, just now, this jumped out at me:

    ”…..and understand what I have to do to move on. But it doesn’t stop the pain. It never stops the pain.”

    And my response, I’m afraid, is just to agree, and be glad I’m not alone in that, but not glad that you(or anyone else, but you as I’m writing to you, my friend) have that, too.

    Liked by 1 person

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